


Jane's Diary

by caitlin



Category: Castiel - Fandom, Dean Winchester - Fandom, Sam Winchester - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, F/M, SPN - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitlin/pseuds/caitlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One stab and he’s dead. Kick to the gut, uppercut to the jaw, stab. Now, kill the rest of them. Slit his throat, oh, and don’t forget to slit her throat too. They’re all coming at you like fresh meat. Stop and look around. One, two, three, four, five. Five bodies lie lifeless on the ground. Take in the smell of fresh blood and the always rousing scene of deteriorating corpses. Congratulations, you’re a killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

a/n: hello and thank you for deciding to read "Jane's Diary!" ((i sound like a fucking salesperson god damn it))  
ok so basically i've been working on this for quite a while and i stopped in february but decided to rewrite it and not republish it bc i'm an attention whore and i like knowing that 68 people have already opened a previous version of this  
anyway, something came over me a few days ago ((mostly boredom)) and i decided to reopen this fic, edit it a bit, and continue it. so, thanks for reading blah blah blah ((enjoy!!))  
disclaimer: i'm typing the actual story on word and there are supposed to be indents before the dialouge ((bc there's a shit load of it)) but ao3 isn't letting me tab it so you're just gonna have to plow through it sorry

Entry One  
December 18th, 2010  
Dad died three days ago of a car accident, apparently. They say he collided with a tree. I don’t believe any of it. My Dad was the safest driver I’ve ever been with…he’s the only person I’ve ever felt safe with. I know something was wrong; I know this was suicide. Something was wrong—he did something wrong. He’d never do something like this unless something was really wrong.  
Kathy gave me this journal. She said it would help me get over his death and help me cope. Yeah right, like I’d ever listen to that spineless bit-

I looked up from my journal to the rasping at my door. Kathy stood there, black, smudged makeup under her eyes.  
Kathy was my step-mother. Emphasis on the step; she was eleven years older than me and she acted like a little kid. My dad was a successful business man and she was only in it for the money. Think Meredith Blake from The Parent Trap but not as evil and not as blonde. My mom died on 9/11. I was only fifteen, just becoming a teenager and wanting teenage-y things like sparkly tank tops, bras, and a cell phone. Needless to say, I was hit very hard by her death.  
Dad married Kathy three years later, in 2004, when I was seventeen. She was 28 and Dad was 45. It was absolutely disgusting.  
I motioned Kathy towards me. She sat next to me, making soft sniffling noises under her annoyingly loud exasperated breathing. Five minutes of silence passed,  
“You’re using the journal I gave you?” I had a sarcastic comment ready for usage, but saved it to prevent any further soul crushing.  
“Yeah. Thanks, by the way.” Two more minutes of silence passed by; they felt like years.  
“Look, Jane, I know I’m not your mom, but-“ And suddenly the nice moment I was having with Kathy was immediately destroyed.  
“It’s fine, Kathy. You’re right, you’re not my mom. I’m an adult now. We don’t even need to be in each other’s lives anymore now that dad’s dead.” Her eyes went wide. God damn it.  
“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t need you checking up on me every five seconds. I can take care of myself.”  
Kathy had an emotionless expression, but I could see the slight hurt in her eyes. Before I could say anything else, and mess everything up, the chime of the doorbell went off. I jumped from my spot on the bed, leaving Kathy to mope, and scurried downstairs, swinging the door open.  
“Hi, what do you-“  
“Hello, we’re agents Jones and Johnson, we’re here about David Beaumont’s death. Do you live here?” Two straight faced men stood in front of me, holding their badges in front of my face. I made a face at them and pushed their badges out of my face.  
“Not exactly. What do you want?” The shorter one of the two smirked at me, chuckling softly under his breath. The other one elbowed him and he stopped laughing and coughed,  
“Can we come in?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. I opened up the door wider, extending my arm out.  
“As you wish,” They walked in slowly, one of them still chuckling. Rolling my eyes, I slammed the door shut. “One moment,” I ran back upstairs, trying as hard as could not to give either of them a show.  
“Kathy,” I panted. She looked up from her lap. “The FBI are here,” I took a deep breath. “Downstairs.” She gasped, pushing past me. Quickly, I picked up my journal, noticing the note Kathy left under my entry. I rolled my eyes and threw it under the bed.  
I ran back downstairs to join everyone else. Kathy sat on the coffee table, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she told the two agents the sob story. They looked very unimpressed.  
I stood at the door, leaning my back against it. The shorter agent, possibly Jones, eyed me at the door. He whispered something to his partner and stood up, motioning me to join him in the next room. Great, he wants to have a chat.  
“So, you’re David’s daughter?” I nodded. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”  
“Yeah, okay, thanks,” he almost scowled at me, but a small smirk played at the corners of his lips. “What do you want with us? He died in a car accident; there’s nothing weird about it,” I leaned in, looking directly into his eyes. “So who are you?”  
“Your dad killed himself. He ran straight into a tree, there’s something…questionable about it.” He raised an eyebrow.  
“You didn’t answer my question.” He cleared his throat a few times, far more than he needed to, then spoke.  
“We’re with the FBI. The agency sent us.”  
“Which agency?” He rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath.  
“Look, sweetheart,” I groaned internally. “You know who we are; you know what we do. We think there’s something weird going on around here and we want to figure out what it is. Now the question is, who are you?” I scowled at him.  
I saw his hand reach towards the back of his belt, running his fingers over his gun. I gave him a look and he immediately jerked his hand his hand forward, grabbing my wrist. Before either of us could say anything, we were interrupted by a “DEAN!”  
“Damn it,” his grip tightened on my wrist. “Come on.” He dragged me into the other room. Kathy lay on the floor, a knife wedged in her abdomen. The other agent pulled his knife out of her.  
“Oh my god, what the hell did you do?!” I nearly shrieked, trying to get to Kathy’s body, but Jones pulled me back.  
“We need to go,” he shouted at the other one then looked at me. “Now!” I pulled out of his tight grip on my wrist.  
“Can’t I get something first before you kidnap me?” I snapped.  
“We’re not trying to-” The taller, still nameless, agent stopped him before he could finish.  
“You have thirty seconds,” I sprinted upstairs, grabbing my backpack and filling it with a few pairs of jeans, shirts, my phone charger, a jacket, my favorite picture of my dad and I, and my diary. I dug a bit further under my bed and grabbed the emergency blade my dad gave me for the fifteenth birthday.  
There was a loud stomp behind me and I quickly jumped out from under my bed. Two more large men stood by my window in suits.  
“Jane Beaumont,” One of them said. Their eyes were pitch black. He grabbed my wrist. “You’re coming with us.” Out of sheer terror, I quickly shoved my blade into his chest. He peered down at it, chuckling softly.  
“That kind of shit don’t work on me, sweetheart.” I shrieked. This is it. This is the end. I’m going to die. I shut my eyes, scrunching up my face, waiting for him to bite my neck or devour me whole or something.  
“Sam, you grab her!” I heard someone say from behind me. The agents? “I’ll deal with these sons of bitches.” I was grabbed from behind, being thrown over Sam’s shoulder. He ran out of the house, bouncing slightly, causing me to hit my head on at the top of the door.  
“Jesus Christ, calm down will you? You’re like ten feet tall! You’re gonna give me a damn concussion.”  
“Shut up,” he grumbled.  
I was chucked into the back seat quickly. A few seconds later, Dean raced out of the house, got into the driver’s seat, and proceeded to drive. Ten minutes of silence later, besides the angry grunts they were both making at each other, we were stopped in a dingy motel parking lot. I pulled myself up from the back and pulled them both to face me by their ties.  
“I need answers,” I looked at both of them sternly, “Now.”


	2. chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s. if anyone is getting annoyed with the lack of indentation, this story is also published on wattpad and has indentation and all   
> http://www.wattpad.com/story/19253462-jane%27s-diary-dean-winchester

“Okay, kid, this is how it’s gonna go,” Dean grunted, pulling out of my grip. “We’re going to explain to you what’s going on and you’re not going to ask any questions until the very end. Got it?” I nodded. “Alright, Sammy, you tell her what’s going on.” Wimp.   
“Let’s go inside first,” he murmured. Grabbing my bag, I stepped out of the car, breathing in the smoke polluted air. This is disgusting.   
Sam led me into one of the motel rooms and Dean followed behind me. He pointed on the couch, mumbling a “Drop your stuff there,” I did what I was told and sat down. They both sat across from me on a bed, their hands in their laps.   
“Our names are Sam and Dean Winchester,” Sam spoke. “We’re hunters; we hunt…supernatural things, like demons, for example. If there’s something that’s out of the ordinary and we hear about it, we go there and try to figure it out. Our dads were best friends, and we were told that, should anything happen to your father, you would be under our protection.” I looked between the two of them; Sam and Dean? What are they? Story book characters? God, what’s up with their freaking chiseled jaw lines and sculpted cheekbones? Ugh.   
“Your step-mom Kathy, or whatever, was a possessed by a demon. She was trying to kill you because your dad left you some sort of weapon in his will and…somebody wants it.”  
“So,” Dean continued. “We need it.”   
“So it was never because of the money,” I whispered, trying to reflect. They nodded. “How do I know you two aren’t demons or whatever?” I inquired.   
Sam held up a bottle of water and threw it on himself and Dean. “Holy water,” he mumbled. He then took out a silver knife and cut himself and Dean a bit above the wrist. I flinched, making a face.  
“See? We’re safe,” he wiped the knife onto a plaid shirt, the blood seeping into the blue and white pattern. I squinted at them.   
“Alright listen, I’ll give you whatever weapon you want, I don’t care, but on one condition. I don’t want to see you two ever again and I never want to be harassed by any of these demons. Got it?”   
“Look, Princess,” Dean seethed. “We’re not allowed to let you leave. You’re our responsibility and we’re going to treat you as such, got it?”   
“Stop with the pet names, you sound like a fucking pervert,” I spat at him, standing up. He grimaced. “And I’m not your responsibility. I’m an adult and I don’t need two annoying little bitches to follow me everywhere I go, got it?”  
“Are you trying to piss me off? ‘Cause you’re doing a damn good job at it!” he screamed, standing up to face me. “I wouldn’t want to take care of you anyway, you fucking brat!”  
“Dean!” Sam screamed. “That’s enough!” I sat back down slowly, trying to catch my breath. Dean stormed out of the motel room, muttering profanities all the way until the door.   
“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” I asked quietly, looking up at Sam. He sighed, flicking his hair out of his face.   
“Your mom was a hunter, like Dean and I. Our moms were best friends in high school and our dads became great friends too, but after my mom died, my dad and your parents were so upset that they tried tracking the demon that killed my mom.” he sighed, looking up at me and smiling a little. “Dean and I actually took care of you for a few years when you were little. That’s he’s being a pain in the ass; he just cares about you a lot.”   
“How come I don’t remember?”  
“Your parents moved you out to New York when you were six,” I nodded. “Because your parents decided they didn’t want you to grow up in this type of lifestyle. They didn’t want you to be a hunter,” he stopped for a second, taking my hand. “When your mom died in 2001, my dad was with her. She wasn’t killed by the twin towers collapsing, she had been dead hours before that happened. A demon killed her.” I let the tears roll down my cheeks. Sam squeezed my hand.   
“What happened after that?”   
“Your dad stopped trusting my dad. That’s why you moved to Washington-” I stopped him.   
“But if my dad was hunter, how could he have married Kathy? She was a demon!” Sam shook his head.   
“We don’t know, we’re trying to get as much information as we can, but for now, can you promise to stay with us? Just until we can figure out another way to keep you safe?” I whispered a “yeah”, still trying to make sense of everything Sam had told me. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”  
He threw me the blanket and pillow from his bed. I just nodded; that’s all I was capable of. Thoughts flooded my mind, most of which I couldn’t comprehend. Just go to sleep, Jane. Maybe things will solve themselves in the morning…  
I awoke to hushed voices saying something urgent. I groaned, rolling over to my side and opened my eyes. Two bright blue ones were staring back at me.   
“Jesus Christ! Who the hell are you?” I shrieked, jumping back into the incredibly uncomfortable sofa.   
“Great,” he grumbled. “She’s like Dean.” Sam chuckled slightly, elbowing Dean who rolled his eyes and scowled.   
“She’s nothing like me! I’m not a bitchy little teenager with an attitude bigger than her bra size!” he spat.   
“Yeah, but you sure do act like one,” I snorted. The blue eyed, trench-coated man snickered a bit, mouthing an “I like her!” to Sam.   
“Whatever Cas,” Dean muttered. “Will you just figure out if we can ditch her or not?” Cas stared at me, looking me up and down, before staring at me directly in the eyes. I feel violated.   
“You can’t ditch her, Dean, she’s special.” I made a face at him. “You’re quick witted, Jane.”  
“Wow, as if I didn’t know that before!” I gasped sarcastically. Cas chuckled. “Who are you anyway?” He stuck his hand out.   
“My name is Castiel; I’m an angel of the Lord,” There are angels now? What next, Mermaids? Vampires? Talking dogs? “God has chosen you specifically for a mission. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I know it. I’ve never seen anything—anyone, sorry, like you.”  
“Well, Castiel, if you’ve never met any quick witted people besides me, then I assume you don’t go out very much.” Both Sam and Dean chuckled, Cas throwing them an annoying glance in response.   
“Jane,” he murmured, making a “come closer” gesture with his index finger. “I know you don’t like these two here, and I don’t blame you,” he whispered, chucking softly. “But, you need to stay with them. They’re the only people who can keep you safe. There are a lot of people after you; angels and demons alike. You need to stay with Sam and Dean and let them protect you, okay?”   
“Yeah, whatever, okay,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. I sat back down, grabbing my journal out of my bag. I stared at the cover for a moment, trying to decide whether or not I should read what Kathy wrote.   
I held my breath as I opened the small, leather book. There were two sentences in small black right under my entry.   
This isn’t over Jane. I’ll have you and that sword.


	3. chapter three

I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head and I heard someone call my name, but I couldn’t respond. Everything went black, then white. A blinding, white light came at me quickly and suddenly, knocking me over. I was in an office building standing over the remains of my mother.  
A man was crouched over her, blood on his cheeks, hands, and clothing. He was sobbing and screaming.  
“Not you too, Natalie! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…” the man’s voice trailed off into never ending sobs and screams of profanities. I stared and studied them—how his whole body shook with fury and how his voice cracked at the end of each scream. How she looked as if she were in a pleasant sleep; without stress and without heart ache.  
A white light hit me again and I was somewhere else. It was a small home with pale blue walls and barely any furniture but a small couch and table. There was a boy in a corner, with his eyes over his hands, counting.  
“Three, two, one!” he uncovered his eyes with a smile. “Ready or not, here I come!” The boy looked about seven or eight years old with his light brown hair and soft green eyes. I followed him throughout the house, giggling quietly as he checked under every table and curtain.  
“Janey! Dean! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he called, his voice echoing through every crevice of the house. A small giggle came from behind the couch followed by a shush. I crept over, being careful to not make any noise, though I knew they couldn’t see or hear me.  
There was a little girl there with shining grey eyes and deep black curls cascading down her back being held by an older boy. His dark hair stood on top of his head, showing off his piercing green eyes. He had a small smile on his face as he watched the small girl bounce up in excitement and down on his knee.  
“Do you think we’ll win, Dee?” she asked him. He smiled wider, poking her on the nose.  
“I don’t know, Janey,” he whispered. “But if you wanna win, you’re gonna have to be really quiet so Sam doesn’t hear us, alright?” She nodded in excitement and hugged him close, burying her head in his chest.  
“This is the only way I can be quiet.” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, her words slightly muffled by his t-shirt. Dean chuckled, kissing her on the top of the head. “You’ll protect me, right, Dee?”  
“Of course I will. I’ll always be there for you.”  
Another bright light came and knocked me to the ground. I was in a new place: South Ridge High School, otherwise known as, hell on earth.  
I could see myself—sixteen year old Jane Beaumont dressed in men’s steel toe boots, dark jeans, and one of my dad’s sweatshirts. With my hair high in a ponytail and my glasses constantly needing to be pushed up my nose, it’s no wonder why I was picked on.  
“Sammy, go say hi to her,” I heard from behind me. I turned around quickly; two young guys stood behind me in matching black school hoodies and jeans. Sammy? Is that-  
“I can’t, Dean! We haven’t seen in her in nine years, she probably doesn’t even remember us! She’d probably get freaked out and leave!” he whispered in an annoyed tone. They made faces at each other for the next few seconds before Sam said, “Well why don’t you do it since you’re so eager to talk to her!” and then he pushed Dean in front of me.  
I remember it vividly. I’d been attending South Ridge for almost four months now and nobody had said a word to me unless they were calling me names. I remembered this. The first person to ever be nice to me at school was Dean.  
He ran straight into me, nearly knocking me over, but steadying the both of us. I thought he was just one of the coaches coming to lecture me.  
“Oh, sorry,” awkward sixteen year old Jane murmured, digging her fingers into her palms. Dean smiled a bit, scratching the back of his head.  
“No, don’t worry about it. It’s, uh, my fault,” he chuckled awkwardly. There was a thirty second silence between them and I remember wanting to die. I looked behind me and giggled at Sam stifling a laugh. “So, are you Jane Beaumont? I’m De-Dustin. Dustin Hamilton.” He held his hand out to her.  
“Hi, Dustin, it’s, uh, nice to meet you. And yeah, I’m Jane.” She nodded at him, shaking his hand and smiled wryly. Another ten second silence and I could see that both of them were extremely uncomfortable. “Um, I better getting going,” she said, smiling again and walking away. Dean, Sam, and I watched as she walked all the way to the end of the hall, reaching a classroom door, before she turned around. “Bye, Dustin.”  
“See ya ‘round,” Dean waved back at her, smiling like an idiot. I felt my cheeks heat up, knowing that’s how I felt all those years ago.  
“So,” a voice came from behind me. A jock-looking kid strode out from behind the lockers. “You know Jane Beaumont?” It was him, the person who made my live a living hell—Matthew Michelson.  
“What’s it to you?” Dean asked harshly. Matthew smirked evilly and circled Dean.  
“Well, you know, she and I had sex last week,” he moaned, making a hip thrusting motion. “So I was just wondering who was picking up last week’s trash.” Dean’s fists balled up and he turned red.  
“You shut the fuck up, you pathetic little prick.” he spat. Matthew chuckled, putting his hands on Dean’s shoulders.  
“I’m not judging you man, she was a good fuck.” With nostrils flared, Dean grabbed Matt by his shirt collar and shoved him up against a locker.  
“If you say one more thing, I’ll rip your fucking guts out. Leave Jane alone or I will hear about it and come for you.” He backed off of Matt and let him go, his fists still in balls. Sam came out from around the corner, pulling on Dean’s arm.  
“C’mon, Dean, he’s not worth it!” he warned, cautiously looking around the hallway for anyone else. Dean snorted,  
“No, he’s not,” he chuckled. “But Jane is.” And just like that, Matthew Michelson was backed up into a locker with his nose broken. I watched the two boys ran out the school as the scene faded, once again, for, hopefully, the last time.  
This time, it was present day. I was sitting in the back of Sam and Dean’s car next to Castiel parked in front of my house. I could see myself sitting on my bed through my bedroom window.  
“Guys, I’m not ready for this.” Dean sighed, slouching in the front seat of the car. Cas grunted and pulled himself up from the back seat.  
“You need to do this, Dean,” he said sternly. “She could be a prophet or some kind of tool that could be helpful to ends this whole charade.”  
“She’s not a tool, Cas, she’s a person! You can’t just use her and then throw her away.” he growled, then calmed down. “Look, I just really care about her, okay? I don’t want her getting hurt. If she comes with us, she’s gonna get hurt. ”  
“And if you leave her alone, she could get killed!” Sam interjected. “Dean, this is what’s best for her,” he sighed. “You’re gonna have to get your feelings for her out of the way if you want to do this right. She’s not a little girl anymore; she’s gonna get pissed if you treat her like she is. Especially if she doesn’t remember who you are—people hate that.”  
“Well maybe that’s exactly what he should do,” Cas mumbled. Sam and Dean faced him in confusion. “If Dean’s cold towards Jane, maybe he’ll stop thinking of her as a little kid when she lashes out towards him.”  
“How do you know she’s gonna lash out at me?” Dean furrowed his brows. Cas explained how losing both parents at a young age can really affect a person and make them cold towards the world, using Dean’s attitude as an example. Dean didn’t get it.  
“Just do it, okay? It’ll make it more bearable; you won’t feel so strongly for her.” Dean mumbled a “Whatever, Cas.” and they all exited the car. Cas gave them one more word of advice before disappearing.  
I followed them in, watching everything unfold. My attitude was on point to what Cas warned Sam and Dean about. I watched as Dean took me into the other room for a chat and how Sam killed Kathy. I witnessed all of it.  
“You have thirty seconds,” Sam murmured, watching and waiting until I was all the way upstairs before turning to Dean. “What the hell are you doing?”  
“I needed to talk to her, Sam. I just needed to talk to her alone.”  
“You didn’t spill any information or break character or whatever, did you?” Sam whispered angrily.  
“No, of course I didn’t,” Dean whisper-shouted back, an annoyed look crossing his face. “I just wanted to be with her and-” he was interrupted by my loud, and frankly annoying, shrieking. “Shit! I told you this was going to happen, god damn it!” he ran upstairs first, Sam following quickly behind him. “You get her and take her to the car, I made her promise.”  
I threw my head back dramatically and groaned. How could I have been so fucking rude to him? I owe Dean my whole life!  
“So, Jane,” a voice said from behind me. I turned around quickly—it was Cas. “You’re all caught up now.”  
“Cas? What the fuck is going on? What is this?” I asked in annoyance. He smiled slightly, putting his right hand on my shoulder and rubbing it with his thumb. “Cas, you’re scaring me.”  
“You’re our new prophet, Jane,” he chuckled. “You’re exactly what I thought you were and I’m so glad it’s you.”  
“What the hell are you talking about? A prophet?” I raised my an eyebrow.  
“I’ll explain later,” he grinned. “But now, I think it’s time for you to wake up.” He touched my forehead with two fingers and suddenly I was lying on the couch, two familiar faces hovering over mine.  
“Oh my god, Jane?”  
“Hi, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: heyo friends! That was a really, really, long and extremely cute chapter it gave me hardcore dean feels wow. ((I actually have a few things to say, keep reading))  
> Firstly, I’d like to thank everyone who’s given this a read and a vote; it really means a lot to me. I know my writing can sometimes be kind of annoying because of all the dialogue, but please note that I have a theatre background and when I write, I picture staging more than anything else. I'm not very good at internal thoughts and feelings, which, unfortunately, is one of the most important things needed to be a good writer. Secondly, I made Jane about a year older due to the slightly unrealistic age gap between Jane and Dean, so, just to clarify, Jane is *now* 24. This story takes place in 2010, when Dean was 31 and Sam was 27. Lastly, because I’m a greedy human being, I will not be updating this story until it’s got a good amount of more readers, and maybe kudos, but that the possibility of that happening is kind of far away and the numbers are extremely flexible. I just want to know that I'm doing a good job and I would be eternally grateful if y'all would let me know. thanks :) -caitlin x


	4. chapter four

Both Sam and Dean stood over me, relief slowly washing over their faces. Dean held my hands, helping me up slowly. He’s trying so hard not to show that he cares.   
“What the hell happened? Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Sam asked and I could see the gears in his mind turning as he raced through every possible question he could ask. Dean didn’t look at me, he only stared at the ground. “Jane!” I broke my gaze from Dean,   
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” I said softly. Sam raised an eyebrow at me. “I saw…everything. Everything you told me Sam, I saw it.”   
“Jane, what are you talking about?”   
“Maybe she’s going crazy.” Dean murmured. I bit my lip, trying to hide back a smile.   
“That could be a possibility,” I whispered, using my hand to slowly, and shakily, push up Dean’s chin before cupping his cheek. “Dee?”   
I watched Dean’s eyes go wide. He quickly enveloped me in a hug, holding on tightly. His arms were locked around my neck and I could feel him stroke my hair.   
“Oh my god, Jane, you’re here, you’re really here and you remember,” His body shook and my neck felt damp, where he had buried his head. “There are so many things I have to say to you and I just-” Tears pricked my eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.” He chuckled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.   
“It’s okay,” I murmured, pulling him off of me gently so I could look at him. “I’m sorry I was rude to you, I just didn’t know who you were. I-I owe everything to you, Dean. You took care of me and you were there for me, even when I didn’t know, and I…am so grateful,” I smiled at him softly and kissed him on the cheek. “And Sam?” I turned around to face Sam who was clearly uncomfortable. I chuckled, “You want a hug too, Sammy?” I teased.  
Sam grinned, nodding. I let go of Dean and ran over to Sam, throwing my arms around his neck. “God, Sam, you’re so damn tall.” He laughed loudly, hugging me tighter, slightly lifting me off the ground in doing so.   
“You three done yet?” A voice asked from behind us. The three of us turned. There was a man stood in a suit, pale green eyes, dark hair, slightly stubbly chin, and a wicked smirk spread across his lips. His eyes ran up and down my body and he licked his lips, “So, this is her then?” he stepped forward causing Sam and Dean to sandwich me in between them. “Why are you hiding her? Aren’t I allowed to take a peek?” Venom hung onto every end of every word he said and my I could hear my heart racing in my chest.   
“Get out of here, Crowley,” Dean growled, grabbing my hands from behind him. “You can’t have her.” His grip tightened and his fingernails dug into my wrist, making me wince a bit, but I ignored the pain. Crowley, however, did notice and seemed to take note.   
“And why is that?” he pouted, slowly walking over to us. The heels of his shoes dragged on the cracked tile floor making a sound almost identical to that of fingernails on a chalkboard. “You’re hurting her, Dean.” He sung, flashing me a wink. Dean quickly let go of my wrist and turned, his worried eyes meeting mine. I shook my head quickly, trying to reassure him.   
A light flashed to the side of me and Cas appeared, a stern look draped across his face. He lurched towards Crowley, his eyes never faltering.   
“What do you want, Crowley?” Cas hissed. Crowley just smirked—eyes set on me.   
“What?” he inquired, flashing me a wink. “Can’t I have a go at heaven’s new prophet too?” Dean’s body tensed up; I could see it through the flimsy material of his t-shirt. His breathing became ragged and his hands shook.   
“What do you mean prophet?” he seethed, enunciating every syllable of every word he spoke. I gnawed at my bottom lip, trying to pretend I didn’t know. Dean didn’t notice me, he was only focused on Cas. “You said you didn’t know what she could do! You said she was something else, but you never said anything about a prophet!” Cas shot Dean a sympathetic look.   
“Dean, I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you myself, but-”  
“But what? Would that have made any difference at all? You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me shit! Damn it, Cas!”   
“If you had cared to listen to anything I’ve been telling you, you’d know,” he spat. “Now shut up, this isn’t all about you.   
“Whoa,” Crowly laughed, his hands on his stomach. “Cassy’s gotten sassy! Do you do this often?”   
“Get the hell out of here, you son of a bitch, or I will kill you.” Sam warned. Crowley rolled his eyes and snickered.   
“Alright, moose. I’ll be on my way,” his gaze switched to me. “And as for you, dearie, I’ll be back later to see you.” He winked at me and he was gone.   
We all turned to Cas who stood dumbfounded at the events that had just taken place. Sam and Dean were both seething. I could see a mixture of hurt, disappointment, anger, and fear all jumbled together in his eyes. He looked at the three of us then spoke,   
“We need to talk.” And suddenly, the three of them were gone. I was back to where I started. 

alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: ok I really really tried not to make that too sappy bc sam and dean aren’t sappy people but I suppose jane can be sappy I mean someone needs to be. also I want your opinions—do you like the relationship between the three of them or do you think that it’s fine the way it is??? Please tell me b/c I’d really like to know!! I know I said I wasn't going to update in a while, but I finished this chapter really quickly and it was quite short, so I decided to post it bc I probably won’t be able to write anything else for the next few days. Thank you all, again, for reading, it means the world to me –caitlin xx


	5. chapter five

*Dean’s Point of View*   
Sam, Cas, and I were standing in the field of a cemetery; the place where Sam had “died”. I could tell that they were both silently reminiscing over the field, but I was too pissed to care about their feelings.   
“What the hell was that for?” Cas’s gaze switched to me, but he stayed silent. I continued, “You can’t just leave her there by herself! Crowley could come back and get her!”   
“He won’t, I’ll make sure of it.” Cas says, rolling his eyes slightly. Sam glared at him, looking just as confused as I was.   
“And how the hell are you gonna do that? We’re over a thousand miles away!” Sam huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.   
“Look guys, I know she’ll be fine,” his eyes faltering. “But we need to talk about the whole prophet situation.” I looked at him expectantly, mirroring Sam’s stance. Cas sighed, “I didn’t want you two to know because I knew that you’d get pissed—especially you, Dean. I know you care a lot about her, but I wasn’t lying when I said she was something else.”   
“What are you talking about? How could you not know if she was a prophet? You have a list.” Sam scoffed. I raised a brow at Cas.   
“Well, her name just kind of…appeared,” Sam and I exchanged the same confused glance. Cas continued, “Her name was right between Chuck’s name and some other kid’s name, but it wasn’t there to begin with, it looked like it was written after the list was made—it’s like she was just chosen last minute.” Cas looked up at us, brows furrowed.   
“Yeah, but that doesn’t happen! Maybe someone wrote it in afterwards? Maybe she’s not a real prophet?” Sam shrugged.   
“It’s a written document from Heaven, nobody could change it. That’s why I’m saying that maybe she was chosen after?”   
“When did her name first appear?”   
“Just a few days ago,” Cas murmured, looking more and more confused. “The day her dad died.”   
“This is some messed up shit,” I muttered. “How could they even do that? Weren’t all these people “chosen” a long time ago?” Cas nodded, whispering something I couldn’t hear.   
We were all silent for a moment. I was so confused. How could she just be chosen? What the hell is all this about? Then, a thought, more like a fear actually, crept its way into my mind.   
“Cas,” he looked up at me. “Does the prophet list have dates of birth and death on it?” he nodded. “What was Jane’s?”   
“I, uh, I couldn’t see it,” he said quickly. “Anyway guys, I have to go. I’ll find out more information for you if I can, but until then, just take care of Jane.” He put his arms around my shoulders and Sam’s and, suddenly, we were back, face to face with an empty motel room.   
“Jane?” Sam shouted, his voice echoing. We were silent for a second, waiting for an answer, even a delayed answer, but nothing came. “Jane!” he yelled again, but the room was completely silent.   
“I knew she wouldn’t be safe by herself here,” I growled, kicking the wall. “God damn it!”   
“Dean, calm down,” Sam pointed to a coffee table in front of the couch. “Look, there’s a note.”   
Sam and Dean—  
Sorry boys, I had to run, but I’ll be back in twenty minutes. I took your car. Read the note in my journal and it’ll explain. Call if you need to, but try not to. I’m just as scared as you are.   
-Jane. 360-555-0124

*Jane’s Point of View*   
I stared at the empty motel room, suddenly feeling unsafe. My eyes drifted to my diary that sat at the corner of the small dinner table. I swiftly grabbed it and jumped back onto the couch, draping my blanket over my legs. I opened the small book, flipping through all the empty pages, counting them as I went along. It was on the very last page that I saw a neatly written letter.   
Dearest Jane,   
Janey, if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead and have been for a very long time (Though, knowing you, you’ve counted all the pages in the book, so there’s no telling how long I’ve been gone for).   
I laughed softly, tearing up a bit. I continued reading,   
I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise that my death was to protect you. It wasn’t your fault either, baby, so please don’t beat yourself up about it. I would give up anything and do anything to keep you safe, Jane. Please know that.   
If all has gone according to plan, you should’ve met Dean and Sam by now. Please be nice to them, Jane. They care a lot about you. Dean, especially. He was really upset when we told him we were moving away. He was always very…sweet with you. Make sure you listen to them and do as they say. They know what they’re doing and they know how to keep you safe.   
Secondly, if I am dead, Kathy is also dead. I know you’re wondering if I knew about her and yes, I did know Kathy was a demon. I made a deal with her. She’d give me a few more years to live and protect you as long as I kept her hidden. Demons were after us, Jane. She was our only hope.   
Finally, Jane, I need you to do something a little bit adventurous for me. By this point, you should already know about the sword I left you in my will. I’ve told no one where I’ve hid it and I’ve told no one the combination until now. I wouldn’t dare writing it in here because I know somebody could get to it.   
I need you to go to our place, Jane. That’s where it is. Once you get there, there will be a note with the combination. Open it, take the sword, and keep it guarded. There will be fifteen minute window where you will be safe from the time that you get there and retrieve the sword. After that, you will be attacked. If anyone tries to hurt you between then, you must kill them. You must use the sword. It’s crucial that you do, Jane. If you don’t, they will come back for you with everything they’ve got and they will kill you.   
I know your mother and I moved you away so that you wouldn’t have to go through this, but it’s unavoidable. Hunting is in your blood, Jane, and you need to embrace it. Don’t shy away from it—it’ll only increase your risk of being killed.   
I love you, Jane. Stay safe and stay with Sam and Dean.   
-Dad

I let my tears fall, finally, and they soaked the page. My Dad was really gone and he wasn’t coming back. I had to fight my own battles now.  
I tore a blank page out of my diary, quickly scribbling my cell phone number, and a short note, onto it. I stood up, leaving my diary open to my dad’s letter and my cell phone number face down on the table in front of me. Grabbing my backpack, I emptied out its contents onto the couch, moving around the room and collecting various items Sam and Dean had left lying around. After five minutes, I had found a pocket knife, mace, a map of Washington, Dean’s car keys, and a small water bottle labeled “holy water”.   
I quickly left the motel room, closing the door silently, and rushed to the car. Driving their car was foreign, since I didn’t drive any other car but mine, but I quickly shrugged it off knowing that I’d probably never drive my car again.   
It took me exactly twelve minutes to get to our place. This place was my true home. It was a small, stone church building. It had caught fire and burnt down about a year before we had moved there, but its remains were just enough to keep my Dad and I interested in it. We spent nearly all of our free time here and nobody else knew about it. Just us.   
The warm air and faint smell of smoke enveloped me, making memories rush back. The charred walls brought back the familiar feel of home. I shook off the feeling and went to the back room where my dad kept all his stuff. Everything that he didn’t want me, or anyone else for that matter, to see was in there.   
I dug through his pile of crap hastily, pulling out a large, black chest from the back. Engraved on it in gold were my parents’ initials. A small piece of paper was taped to it. I quickly pulled it off, memorizing the combination, and shoving the paper into my back pocket.   
Sweat dripped from my forehead as I put the combination in. My hands shook. The chest opened and a sleek, metal sword was neatly packed inside next to its scabbard. The tip of the sword was jagged, but sharp. It stung to even look at it.   
I picked it up from the chest with both hands and a light flashed in my eyes. My chest started to hurt and it felt as if I couldn’t breathe just for a moment, but I was allowed air once more. It was in that moment that something came over me. It was anger, frustration, and violence. My mind raced and I felt my entire body tense up. The sword felt…right when it was in my hands.   
“Well, look what we have here,” an unrecognizable voice said from behind me, followed by various approving chuckles. I turned around, face to face with two men dressed in suits. They both had pitch black eyes and wicked grins.   
“Give us the sword, Jane,” the other one said, his pitch black eyes boring into my own. I felt the urge to just kill him then and there and actually listen to my orders, but I waited it. Good thing too, because, just a few moments later, more people showed up.   
“Leave her alone!” A woman snapped, her eyes narrowed at the opposite group. There were three of them. The woman, the leader, had dark eyes. Though equally intense, I could tell she wasn’t on their side. The attire of this group was entirely different than that of the other one. It ranged from jeans and a t-shirt to work and school uniforms. Two of them looked to be in their mid 40’s and other looked about my age or even younger.   
I focused on what my father had told me. There will be fifteen minute window where you will be safe from the time that you get there and retrieve the sword. After that, you will be attacked. If anyone tries to hurt you between then, you must kill them.  
“Focus, Jane,” I advised, under my breath. I pointed my sword at the pair of men in black. I caught eyes with one of them, making him smirk. He stepped forward. “Tell me,” I murmured, twirling the sword in my hand. “Why would you possibly want this?”   
“That, my dear, is the only weapon in this world that can kill both of us.” He said smoothly, reaching for my sword, but I backed up quickly.   
“Who’s us?” I raised my eyebrow and bit my lip. He licked his lips,   
“Angels and demons, babe,” he snickered. “That’s what we are.” His black eyes reflected the soft light that came through the various cracks in the ceiling. I prayed silently that my dad wouldn’t get annoyed, wherever he was, that I’d be splattering blood on his walls.   
“Perfect,” I purred, getting up close to him and jabbing the sword through his chest. I stared at the rest of them, eyes narrowed. “Who’s next?” I swung the sword in my hands and it all happened very quickly.   
One stab and he’s dead. Kick to the gut, uppercut to the jaw, stab. Now, kill the rest of them. Slit his throat, oh, and don’t forget to slit her throat too. They’re all coming at you like fresh meat. Stop and look around. One, two, three, four, five. Five bodies lie lifeless on the ground. Take in the smell of fresh blood and the always rousing scene of deteriorating corpses. Congratulations, you’re a killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: a super, super long chapter for all of my lovely readers who have made me absolutely ecstatic!! I got 5 kudos in like two days and 40 views in like a week and wOW. I didn’t expect that at all, so thank you!! I’ll be completely honest, I didn’t intend for it to be nearly this long, but I just went with it. I want your opinions on how you think the story’s going! Do you like it? Do you love it? Do you want Jane and Dean to just make out already? ((I do))   
> thank you all for reading and making me extremely happy, ily. –caitlin x


	6. chapter five

*Sam’s Point of View* ((heyo that’s different)) 

“Well, what the hell are we supposed to do? She took Baby!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration. I rolled my eyes at him,   
“Are you really more concerned with your car than with Jane?” He narrowed his eyes at me.   
“That’s not what I meant, Sam,” he growled. I snorted, obviously making him even more pissed. “You know I don’t like it when people use my car without me knowing.”   
“Jesus Christ, Dean!” I almost laughed. “Jane is in trouble! We don’t know where she is or what she’s gotten herself into,” I quieted down a bit. “She could be dead, Dean. We don’t know. Now stop worrying about your damn car.” He angrily grabbed Jane’s note again, scanning over it quickly. He then picked up the book next to it on the table, doing the same, then threw it down.   
“There’s nothing on here that could lead us to her!” he whined, handing me the small book. I read quickly over Uncle Dave’s words, my mind instantly going to memories. I shook it off and finished, setting the book back down on the table.   
“No, there’s nothing there,” I murmured. “Do you want to call her?” he nodded, quickly pulling out his phone from his pocket. I handed him the slip of paper with her number and he typed it in, holding the phone to his ear almost immediately after. A few moments passed and he looked at me.   
“It’s, uh, ringing,” he stammered and I threw him a fake smile. He glared at me and threw his phone down onto the table, putting his hands on his hips. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”   
“Like what?” I answered nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders. His glare intensified.   
“Like I’m some sort of love sick bitch!” I didn’t answer. “Hey!” he barked. I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not in love with Jane if that’s what you’re thinking, Sam.”   
“That’s not what I was thinking,” I said calmly. “Obviously you can’t be if you care about your damn car more than you care about her.”   
“I’m not in love with Jane, Sam,” he repeated, annoyance growing in his voice. “I was told to take care of her and keep her safe, so that’s what I’m going to do. I follow my orders. She’s nothing more than that.” He hissed. He opened his mouth to say something else, no doubt something rude, but he was interrupted by the sound of his call disconnecting. His eyes widened and he picked up his phone again, staring at the screen in disbelief.   
“Great job, Dean,” I shook my head and clapped my hands slowly. “She’s not gonna come back, you know.” He cursed at me repeatedly, throwing things around the room angrily. “Dean! It doesn’t matter, okay?” his head snapped up.   
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” he spat at me.   
“You’re still with Lisa anyway; you can’t have Jane,” I countered him. “Anyway, your complicated love life isn’t the issue right now. We still don’t know where Jane is.” 

*Jane’s Point of View*

I grabbed my bag and the sword, rushing out of the building. I felt as if the entire world, much less the building, was going to collapse onto me any second. I had just committed murder. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel after killed people, but I felt adrenaline pumping through my veins. I wanted nothing more than to go back to the motel and brag about my achievements.   
I jumped into the car, placing my sword and bag next to me in the passenger’s seat. I drove for about five minutes before stopping off the side of the road to stretch out my arms. My phone rang moments later and I quickly pulled it out of my bag, answering it with a smile.   
“Hello?” I waited patiently for Dean’s exasperated voice to answer me and ask me where I’ve been and what I was doing and if I was okay, but it never came. All I heard was yelling on the other end, but, when I could finally make out what they were saying, I instantly wished I hadn’t heard it.  
“I’m not in love with Jane, Sam,” I heard Dean say. I felt as if my heart had cracked. “I was told to take care of her and keep her safe, so that’s what I’m going to do. I follow my orders. She’s nothing more than that.” I ended the call, throwing my phone into the back seat.   
I shook my head in disbelief and covered my face with my hands. Small tears pricked my eyes and I wiped them away. I wouldn’t dare cry over Dean. I wouldn’t dare. Why would I cry over someone who I didn’t mean anything to?   
My hands were shaking as I put the car back into ignition and drove way opposite to the motel. Tears fell from my eyes, but I ignored them. My hand gripped the steering wheel and my knuckles were on the verge of turning white.   
“Jane,” I felt a hand on my shoulder and I abruptly stopped the car, fear taking over me. I turned slowly, meeting eyes with Cas. His brows furrowed. “Jane, your eyes…they’re ice blue.” I turned back around, not bothering to look in the mirror. I stayed concentrated on the road. “What happened?”   
“I don’t want to talk about it, Cas,” I almost growled, gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter. His hand gripped my shoulder again and I pushed it off. “Stop that, you’re going to make me crash.”   
“Jane, you need to tell me what happened,” He said sternly. I ignored him. “Jane!” I rolled my eyes, taking in a sharp intake of breath, and pulled off the road again. Angrily, I put the car in park and turned around to face him, but the worried expression on his face was just enough to make me break.   
“He doesn’t care about me, Cas,” I sobbed. “And why do I even care? I shouldn’t have gotten so attached so easily! Of course he’d lie to me.” Cas sighed, rubbing my arm awkwardly. At least he was trying to comfort me.   
“It’s better that you two don’t get attached,” he said finally. I looked up at him and he sighed again. “Jane, you’re a prophet. You have the ability to unlock anyone’s, or anything’s, history just by touching it. You’re able to obtain skills from weapons, like you did with that sword,” he continued. “What I’m trying to say, Jane, is that you’re dangerous. The relationship between you and Dean, and even Sam, should be strictly business.”   
“But that’s easily restrained! I don’t understand why-”   
“Jane!” he barked, looking me in the eye. “There is a list of prophets in heaven. Next to each of their names is the year they’re kind of resurrected, if you will, as a prophet.”   
“So, what you’re telling me,” I say slowly. “Is that I’m going to die soon?” His brow furrows and his forehead crinkles, but he nods. I feel as if everything is falling apart.   
“I’m not telling you this to scare you, Jane, I’m only trying to warn you,” he tried to reassure me. “You need to stick with Sam and Dean. Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to hear about you running off again because of your emotions,” he said harshly. “I don’t know what’s coming next, but they’re going to need all the help they can get.”   
“Why do you say that? They probably wouldn’t even want my help.” Cas chuckled.   
“They always need help whether they want it or not.” I smiled slightly, looking at my lap. “So I should go back then?” I look back up and Cas has gone. In his place was my phone, buzzing on the seat furiously. I bit my lip, but answered it.   
“Jane!” Relief washed over me when it was Sam’s voice I head on the other end instead of Dean’s. “Where are you?”   
“Sorry, I just need to pick up some more stuff from my house. I’ll be back soon.” I apologized and hung up the phone. I restarted the car and drove back home, parking across the street. I took the sword and bag with me, silently hoping none of the neighbors were seeing me, and rushed inside the house.   
It had been ransacked. Our large TV was smashed and books were scattered all over the floor underneath broken bookcases. I walked through the kitchen, trying to avoid all the broken glass on the floor, and into a small hallway that led to my dad’s room. I swung the door open, meeting the wreckage.   
Nothing was left untouched. I slowly made my way over to his nightstand, opening the first drawer, and was met with various journals. Without opening them, I shoved them all into my bag. I dug through the rest of his drawers and found nothing of interest. I was about to close it, when something glinted in the sunlight and caught my eye. Curiously, I pulled it out from the back of the drawer and nearly cried when it was revealed to me. My mom’s wedding ring.   
I slipped it on my finger and almost immediately, I was hit with a light. I was watching my parents meet for the first time.   
She had light, hazel colored eyes and they sparkled at my dad’s own gray ones. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep me from choking out a sob. They shook hands and my dad winked at her and she blushed. I wanted to stay here in this moment and I didn’t want to leave it, but I was overtaken by another bright, white light.   
I was in the all too familiar, and all too frightening, St. Paul’s Chapel. My eyes welled with tears as I stared at my family and myself from behind the empty casket. They lowered it into the ground, and I watched as fifteen year old me screamed for her mother. It was all becoming too much.   
“No, no I don’t want to see this!” I shrieked. “Get me the hell out of here!” I fell to the ground in a shriveled up mess. I snapped my eyes open when I felt someone touch me. Dean stood over me, his eyes filled with guilt.   
“Jane,” he breathed.


	7. chapter seven

I didn’t want this to happen either. I didn’t want to see the guilt in Dean’s eyes or the blood that dripped from a fresh cut on his cheek or his sad, but relieved, smile. I didn’t want to see Dean in any way, shape, or form, because he had hurt me.   
I wanted to get up and move, but I was numb. It was like all my bones were shattered, but I couldn’t feel the pain. However, what I did feel emotionally and mentally, was much worse.   
“Jane,” Dean said again, his eyes locking with mine. “Your eyes are-” I cut him off, trying to roll my eyes and look slightly annoyed, at the least, but it hurt too much.   
“Yes, I know, they’re blue. Big deal. Now get me the hell out of here before I throw a fit.” I snapped. I could see the hurt in his face.   
He moved away from me and Sam picked me up, his arms underneath me, while I summoned up just enough strength to lock my arms around his neck. Dean followed from behind, my backpack slung over his shoulder and my sword in hand. He only looked down at his feet while he walked. I rested my chin on Sam’s shoulder and sighed, making Dean look up at me.   
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, and looked back down at his feet. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him that he was an asshole for pretending that he really cared about me. I wanted to kick him and punch him and slap him for being a dick, but I also wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to kiss me on the cheek and tell me that he only said that to protect me.   
“Dean?” I whispered. Answer me. His shoulders tensed for a second, but then fell back. He slouched as he walked, carefully avoiding the glass shards.   
“Leave me alone, Jane,” he muttered after a few beats of silence. “I’m not in the mood for you shit.” His tone was cold and he almost sounded like he didn’t mean it, but I could tell that he did. It felt like another jab to my heart and I ignored it the best I could.   
Sam’s grip got tighter as he held me and his fingernails dug into my back and legs. His breathing became harsher and a stone cold look adorned his face. He looked angry—angrier than I’d ever seen anyone. His jaw clenched and his eyes were set straight on his destination.   
“Sam?” I whispered. He looked down at me sympathetically, just for a moment, before looking back up and his face resetting into its original structure. I almost wanted to tell them I was going to die soon to see if it would elicit the slightest emotion, but I decided against it. We were all having a shitty day and telling them would probably make them more annoyed with me than they already were.   
I didn’t know why they were, anyway. I had done nothing wrong. If anything, it was Dean’s fault. He’s the one that called me and forgot to hang up. He’s the one who let it slip out. He’s the one who said he didn’t love me. Knock it off, Jane, you sound like a child.   
Outside my house, or what was my house, was an old, gray Camry. Probably stolen from outside the motel. Probably stolen from an innocent person who led an innocent life who had never stolen anything or killed anyone or hurt anyone or done anything horribly wrong. And I wished that I still was that person who had never killed or hurt or stolen.   
“Jane,” I turned and Dean looked at me expectantly. “I need my keys.” I nodded to my bag and he fished them out of the front pocket and held them up. He walked past us and to his car, dragging his feet with him. He didn’t mean it when he said he didn’t love me. I know he didn’t.   
Sam carried me into the stolen Camry, placing me gently in the passenger’s seat before running over to his side of the car. He and Dean said something from across the road, but I didn’t pay attention. Dean nodded to Sam and got inside his car. I watched him take a deep breath, put his face in his hands, then rub his eyes. He glanced at me for a moment, his eyes narrow and his jaw clenched. He drove off before us.   
Sam got into the car a few moments later still wearing the same angry expression. I had stare at him with wide eyes for a few seconds until he broke out into a small smile. He leaned over, ruffling my hair and kissing my forehead. It seemed as it were a very un-Sam thing to do. Five minutes passed and, while stopped at a light, he said,  
“I’m sorry,” I looked up from my lap and he sat there, his hand run halfway through his hair. “All the stuff Dean said earlier, I kinda made him say it,” he continued. “I just don’t think that he doesn’t need you in his life.”   
“Excuse me?” he had gotten my attention now. His words stung. I locked eyes with him and he looked away.   
“I mean—I’m sorry that was a bad way to say it,” he sighed. “What I mean is that he’s not going to focus on what he needs to do if he’s constantly thinking about you because that’s all he ever does. You know, he used to call your Dad every day and ask how you were doing,” he paused, shaking his head and continuing to drive. “I know how you feel about him, it was obvious the day you found out who he really was, but I care about you, Jane, and I don’t want him hurting you. I think he just needs to get over it. He has a girlfriend anyway and he should be worrying about her instead of you.”   
I felt tears prick my eyes and I leaned back in my seat, leaning my head against the window. I blinked a few times and tried to stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to look like a coward in front of Sam. I’m Jane Beaumont. I don’t care about anyone but myself. I don’t take care of anyone but myself. I do not get hurt and I definitely do not cry.


	8. chapter eight

It had been thirteen days since I’d said any real thing to both Sam and Dean. Yes, we’d been on multiple cases and killed multiple people, but every time we talked, it was strictly business. Who goes where, who does what, and who kills who. I constantly found myself alone.   
Every motel we went to, two rooms were purchased. One for me, one for the boys. We stayed apart just as Cas wanted. And every night I’d wake up at exactly 2:30 am screaming and in tears and nobody would hear me. Occasionally Cas would come and try to comfort me, but it was rare (and frankly it seemed as if he had no idea how to comfort anyone).  
And now it was January second, two days into two thousand and eleven, and I felt more alone than I ever had in my whole life. I stared at the ceiling from my bed, counting the moments ‘til Sam would come and knock on my door three times, signaling that I should probably get out of bed and get dressed.   
It came five minutes later and, shortly after, I found myself standing in the shower. The water was turned to the hottest setting it would go to and it burned every part of my body it touched, but, as morbid and slightly cliché as it sounded, I loved the feeling. I’d been so unbearably numb that it felt nice to actually feel something every other day.   
I washed up quickly and then stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel the motel had provided. It had a few ominous, obviously bleached, stains, but it was the best it was gonna get. I stumbled over to the sink, putting my hands on the counter and staring at myself in the mirror. Red splotches and burns decorated my arms and chest. I was too afraid to look at the rest of my body.   
I dressed myself quickly, my outfit closely resembling that of when I was younger: dark, skin-tight jeans, an oversized knit sweater, and steel toe boots. I threw my damp hair up into some form of ponytail and left my face free of makeup, knowing fully that it’d be decorated in someone else’s blood in a little while.   
I walked into Sam and Dean’s room nonchalantly, my bag swung over my left shoulder. They were both huddled around Sam’s laptop, reading something. A case, probably. Sam looked up at me for a moment, shooting me a small smile, before continuing to read the contents of his computer screen. Dean, on the other hand, did nothing. I walked over to their couch, plopping down onto it and taking out my cell phone. I had one missed call an unknown number. Normally, I wouldn’t call them back, but it had gotten to the point where I just didn’t give a shit.   
I redialed the number, holding the phone up to my ear and leaning against it, my elbow digging into my knee. The phone rang a few times before somebody picked it up, chuckling.   
“You rang?” I asked in annoyance. Sam and Dean looked up at me, confused.   
“You actually called back,” I heard him say. I tensed up and my hand started to shake. Nervous tick. “I was starting to think that you were just going to ignore me.”   
“It’s you.” I breathed. I looked up at Sam and Dean whose eyes were still wide, and growing wider. Dean narrowed his eyes at me. Surprise, surprise.   
“Of course it’s me, darling. You didn’t think I’d just forget about you, did you?” he chuckled again evilly. “I just wanted to check up on you, Jane. I heard about your little fiasco with Moose and…not moose. What happened? Did you two have a falling out?”   
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said coldly. Sam raised an eyebrow at me and Dean gripped the top of Sam’s chair. “What the hell do you want?”   
“I already told you, Janey, I just wanted to check up on you.” His voice went lower. “But, really, if you want me to be honest, I want you,” He paused and I could almost hear the smirk on his face. “I think you’d be put to much better use here with me.”   
“Well, sorry to disappoint you, darling, but that’s not happening.” Crowley snorted at the other end of the line.   
“Whatever you say, love. Just remember that I’ve got people watching you twenty-four seven. It wouldn’t take very much for me to just grab you, but I figured I’ll let you have your fun with the boys while you can.”  
“Are you implying that I won’t put up a fight?” I countered him and he laughed loudly.   
“Oh, of course I know you’ll put up a fight. That’s what makes you fun; I like that about you. I’m just saying, long story short, that we’re ready,” chills ran down my spine. “Goodbye, Janey. See you soon.” The line went dead as soon as he finished talking.   
“Damn Crowley.” I muttered, shoving my phone into my pocket.   
“Why did you call him back? God, Jane, you’re acting like a dumbass.” Dean snapped. Sam shot him a look, but I just shrugged. I had gotten nothing even remotely nice from Dean in the past thirteen days and I wasn’t surprised by any of it. I tried my hardest to wrap my head around it for the first few days, but gave up. I wasn’t going to put effort into my relationship with someone who obviously wanted nothing to do with me.   
We sat in silence for a few moments, me staring at my lap while Sam’s eyes burned holes in the top of my head. I knew what he was doing and I didn’t feel like having the sympathetic, I-really-miss-you-janey-please-say-something-to-me talk.   
“So, uh, Jane,” Sam murmured awkwardly. “I found out why your eyes changed colors.” I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. Obviously we hadn’t forgotten the subject, it just wasn’t as important as other things.   
“Well? Are you gonna tell me?”   
“Yeah, uh, basically when you touched the sword, it had some sort of cooling effect on you and kinda…cooled your soul…or something.” He made an over exaggerated frowning face at me.   
“Cooled my soul, eh?” he nodded. “What the fuck am I, some sort of ice princess or something?” Dean snorted and I rolled my eyes. “Look, can we just forget about all this and go on this damn case?” Sam’s eyes perked up and he nodded, rotating his computer screen towards me.   
“Paterson, New Jersey,” he motioned to his laptop. “There was a janitor mysteriously killed. Then, there was a reported killing made by a ghost who somehow inhabited a mannequin. You in?” I grimaced at Sam, rolling my eyes (again).  
“Do I have a choice?” Sam smiled half-heartedly and shook his head. “Let’s go then, before more people die.” I murmured, almost sarcastically, and Dean chuckled softly.   
The three of us piled into the infamous ’67 Impala without another word. I climbed into the backseat, scooting myself to the farthest left seat. I looked up into the rear-view mirror for a moment and Dean’s eyes flashed meeting mine for just amount before he tore them away. He looked pained. He had bags under his eyes, like me. I wanted to ignore him, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

Six hours and three bathroom stops later, we had arrived in Paterson. The boys had donned their usual FBI “costumes”, as I had so lovingly called them, and I wore a navy pantsuit and black heels I’d purchased from some Goodwill in Rhode Island. I quickly applied the slightest amount of mascara and stepped out of the car, pulling my hair out of its bun. I ruffled it a little, in an attempt to make it look more professional.   
Dean threw me my badge, which I failed to catch, then rolled his eyes and continued strutting in front of Sam and I. Sam mouthed a ‘sorry’ at me and put his arm around my shoulder, lowering his mouth to my ear.   
“We haven’t talked very much these past few weeks...how are you?” I glared at him in disbelief.   
“You’re going to ask me how I’m feeling right before we’re going into investigate a case?” I scoffed, shoving him playfully. “I’m alright, I guess. How are you?” I lowered my voice. “And, like, the whole not-having-a soul-but-getting-it-back soul thing?” He ran his hand through his hair and then rested it, once again, on my shoulder.   
“It’s a little hard to talk about, but I’m pretty good, I guess.” He smiled softly. I put my arm around his waist, squeezing him. Dean turned to look at us over his shoulder and glared at Sam first, then at me. My nice moment with Sam was over; I felt as if I could’ve shriveled up and died. Sam scowled and Dean, pushing me closer to him. “It’s all an act, Janey,” he murmured, his eyes not leaving Dean. “He’s just being a dick because he thinks he’ll hurt you if he lets you get too close.”   
“You know, I actually agree with him,” I sighed. Sam looked down at me curiously. “I could be extremely dangerous…I’m destructive and violent; sometimes I don’t think I should even be here with you guys,” I paused, locking eyes with Sam. “But I owe you two my life.”   
He rubbed my arm, a strained look on his face. He didn’t say anything else to me, but instead pressed a kiss to my temple. I hugged Sam tighter, hoping to ease his mind, or maybe to ease my own—I didn’t know. I just wanted to feel something again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, the rest of the story is going to loosely follow the plots of the episodes in the rest of season six and seven. Obviously, it’ll have to be a bit different b/c jane’s in the picture, but I’ll do my best to make it all correlate. –c. x
> 
> p.s. if you’re wondering, yes that does include “the French mistake” ((aka the episode where sam and dean are transported to a world where they’re Jensen and jared)) ((I’m so excited to write that one omfg))


	9. chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: if you’ve seen this episode (Mannequin 3: The Reckoning), this chapter will NOT go exactly how it was on TV. It will loosely follow the storyline for the episode, but please remember that my story is about Jane and Dean ((primarily)) and there are certain things they have to go through, so, obviously, some things that are in the TV show will be altered, some things will be added, and some things will be left out ((for example, in this chapter, the storyline of the actual case is completely left out)). This goes for the rest of the story. Again, thank you for reading this very long chapter that wasn’t convenient enough to split into two separate chapters. – c x

“Just answer your phone!” Sam groaned, throwing his head back. We’d been sitting in the motel, trying to do more research, and Dean’s phone had rung at least three times in the last hour alone. Sam rolled his eyes and muttered something about Dean needing to face his past, obviously annoying him by the expression on his face. A few moments later Dean’s phone rang again.   
“Answer it, please.” I murmured, trying my best to use a tone that wouldn’t annoy him. It did anyway, of course, and he shot me a glare.  
“What, now you’re in it too?” he snapped. I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped. It wasn’t worth wasting my breath to fight with Dean. Eventually, after it rang a few more times, he gave up and answered it, leaving Sam and I to ourselves.   
“So, who was that exactly?” Sam raised an eyebrow, looking like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell me. He did anyway,  
“It’s his girlfriend, Lisa,” he paused for a moment, taking a breath. “He went and stayed with her after I…died. When I came back, he kinda dropped her and left.”   
“Wow, what a great boyfriend he must’ve been.” I snorted, making him chuckle.   
“Yeah, well it was more than that—like, uh, Lisa had a kid and he took care of him and helped her out and stuff. I wanted him to live a normal life and he did.”   
“He’s very dedicated.”   
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Sam chuckled. I raised a brow at Dean who spoke in hushed tones at the other end of the room, his shoulders hunched over.   
“You know, Sam, you really suck at being dead.” I mused, my eyes still glued to Dean. A few moments had passed without Sam saying anything and I turned around. Sam stared at me, amusement crossing his face. He broke out into a laugh.   
“You are very right, Jane,” he laughed, slapping his knee. I smiled, nudging him lightly. Dean returned a few minutes after, huffing. He put one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead, shaking his head. “Just go, Dean.”   
“Are you sure?” Dean asked, rubbing his temples.   
“Yeah, but take Jane with you.” My eyes went wide and I smacked Sam’s arm.  
“What the hell? Why?” I scowled and Dean snorted, narrowing his eyes at me.  
“Because you too need to learn how to get along!” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to be the martyr between you guys.”   
“But I want to help you!” I whined.   
“Jane, you can’t-”  
“Fine, whatever,” Dean interjected, grabbing my wrist. “I’ll call you later.” He pulled me out of the room and down the hall. We passed through the front door, which smacked me in the face due to his lack of manners, and out to his car. I got in the back seat quietly and he glared at me. “Just get in the front, Jane.” He grumbled.   
I did as he said, too scared to sass him, honestly. He got in the car and started it up all in one swift movement, then backed out of the parking lot. We drove for a good fifteen minutes before I could feel him staring at me. I turned my head quickly to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, there he was— eyes concentrated on me and lips in a tight line.   
“What do you want, Dean?” I asked coldly. He shook his head, continuing to concentrate on the road ahead. I sighed, turning my attention to the window. We looked as if we were in the middle of nowhere. I put my elbow on the arm rest, digging my chin into my knuckles.   
“Jane,” FINALLY. I looked over my shoulder at him. His eyes were on the road, but his eyes were red. “I’m sorry.”   
“Dean, are you okay? Do you want me to drive?” he shook his head, his lips curling up into a small smile.   
“Nobody drives Baby but me.” he joked. I smiled softly. “Anyway, Jane,” he started, blinking his eyes a few times. “I know I’ve been acting like a total dick since…you know, and I wanted to, uh, apologize for my behavior.”   
“Yeah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” I mumbled. “I was being pretty bitchy too, but it doesn’t really matter.” I shifted in my seat, kicking off my shoes and bringing my knees to my chest.   
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” he asked.   
“It means it doesn’t matter,” I grumbled. He glanced at me, eyebrows furrowed. “Look, I’d rather not talk about this right now. I’m gonna take a nap. Wake me up when we’re there.” Dean responded with a grunt followed by a ‘yeah, whatever’. I folded my legs over each other, leaning my head against the window and closed my eyes. 

When I woke up again, the car was stopped. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and looking outside. We were parked outside a house. I assumed it was his girlfriend's. A bright light came towards me and I squinted at it. Suddenly, there was a loud thump on the car and a kid stood there, his palms flat on the hood of the impala.   
“Get out of the car!” he shouted. I furrowed my brows, scoffing. “I said, get out of the car!” he repeated, yelling louder this time. I rolled my eyes, stepping out, and he forcefully grabbed my wrist.   
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I hissed. He didn’t answer me. “What the hell is your problem?” he gripped my wrist tighter, pulling me towards the house.   
“Dean!” he shouted. “Dean, there was some girl in your car!” he ran through the house, pulling me with him. We reached a room and he finally let go of me. I pulled my arm out of his grip and I rubbed my arm, which had been bruised.   
“I just let an eleven year old bully me.” I muttered, my eyes still on my wrist.   
“I’m twelve!”   
“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes, looking up, and was met with two pairs of eyes. Dean glared between the kid and I, his jaw clenched. A lady stood next to him, her eyes red and wide. “Oh, sorry, I’m gonna, uh, go. Dean, I’ll just—yeah.” I backed away slowly, but the kid grabbed my wrist again.   
“What were you doing in Dean’s car?” he snapped. I rolled my eyes, gripping his wrist and pushing him off of me.   
“It doesn’t matter. Mind your own damn business.” I shot back at him.   
“Jane!” Dean glared at me. “Ben, go to your room. Jane, get in the car.” The kid, Ben, trudged down the hallway and I trailed behind him. Suddenly, he turned around, grabbing my wrist again and pulled me outside, closing the door softly behind him.   
“Who are you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.   
“For the last time, it doesn’t-”  
“Just answer the question.” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.   
“I’m Jane,” he raised an eyebrow. “I’m a friend of Dean’s.”   
“Are you his girlfriend?” I scoffed,   
“No.”   
“Are you lying?”   
“No,” he grimaced, circling me. “Is that your mom in there?” he nodded. “Did she love him?” he stopped, locking eyes with me.   
“Yeah,” he sat down on the front steps of his house and motioned for me to join him. “He stayed with us for a year. We were like a real family, then he just left us,” he sighed. “Sorry about that earlier, I just…I don’t like that he’s not here anymore. And then you in the car—I freaked out.”   
“It’s alright, kid. I-” the door opened behind us and I stood up quickly. Dean stood there, eyes red and slightly puffy. He gave Ben a sympathetic look and then nodded at him to go back inside. Ben smiled at me half-heartedly then ran inside, slamming the door behind him. “Dean?”   
He pushed past me, dropping something silver on the ground. He got into the car, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. I stared at the thing he had dropped—a silver necklace. Furrowing my brows, I picked it up, and a bright light hit me.   
I stood where I had been before, but it was darker. I turned towards the house and looked through a window. They were gathered at a table, a small smile on Dean’s face. I watched as Lisa kissed his cheek and he blushed. A grunt came from behind me and Sam stood under a lamp post. He didn’t look like the Sam I knew. His eyes were stone cold and emotionless. I watched him walk away.   
The scene had changed and I was in the house again. Dean stood at the stove and Ben sat at the counter, telling a joke to Lisa, who stood in the doorway. They all had smiles on their faces. I smiled at the sight—Dean had a family. A real family who really cared about him. Not that Sam didn’t care about him, but Dean had settled down.   
The lights faded, like a scene from a play, and I was still standing in the kitchen. It was from earlier. Lisa stood opposite Dean, a tear rolling down her cheek.   
“Who’s she?” Lisa asked quietly. Dean sighed, wiping his face with the palm of his hand. When he didn’t answer, she asked again, more stern this time.   
“She’s just a friend. I’ve known her since she was little.” He was so much gentler with her. His voice was soft and his tone was guilty.   
“I don’t think that’s the case,” She whispered, shaking her head. Dean’s eyes grew wide. “I’m trying to get over you, Dean. I think you should move on too.”   
“Lisa, I-”  
“Please, Dean,” her eyes were shining and another tear rolled down her cheek. I had to hold my breath to keep from choking out a sob. “You need to leave.” She walked over to Dean slowly and reached into her pocket, pulling out the necklace and placing it in Dean’s hands.   
The bright light came again and I was back where I was. Dean stared at me from the car, a flush of emotions crossing his face. Anger, embarrassment, disappointment. He got out of the car, grabbing the necklace from my hand and shoving it into his pocket.   
“That was not for you to see,” He seethed. His eyes had turned a dark green as opposed to their usual light shade. “Get in the damn car.” I got in quietly and waited a few minutes before speaking,   
“Dean, I’m really-”  
“Shut the hell up, Jane,” he spat. His hands gripped the wheel tighter. “To think I actually apologized to you earlier!” he was in hysterics. “You didn’t deserve that.”  
“What the hell is your problem, Dean? You’re acting like an egotistical asshole!” I almost shouted. “All you’ve done is treat me like shit! I can’t believe I actually thought that you—ugh.”   
“That I what?”   
“That you actually cared about me!” I shouted. His eyes softened and his brow furrowed. “I thought, for a split second, that you really cared, but I was wrong,” my voice cracked. “Everybody’s who’s ever cared about me is dead.”   
“I do care about you, Jane,” he whispered. His tone was soft, like the tone he used with Lisa. “I’ve cared about you your whole life,” he paused, “And I’ve loved you your whole life.”   
“Don’t bullshit me, Dean. I heard what you said on the phone. You specifically said that you didn’t; you said I was just work.” I crossed my arms over my chest.   
“I was pissed at Sam and it just came out! I didn’t mean it!” he took one hand off the steering wheel and grabbed my hand. “I care about you a lot, Janey. I didn’t want you to hurt and I didn’t want to lose you, so I didn’t get attached.” I sighed, shutting my eyes.   
“You did hurt me,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see his reaction, but I took a deep breath, opening my eyes again. “You let me down when I needed you…and it hurt.” Tears pricked my eyes, and I tried to blink them back, but I didn’t work.   
Dean didn’t look at me and didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled my hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses on my knuckles, rubbing his thumb over each one. Yet, despite all the affection Dean had given me, that’s not what this night would be remembered by. Not the kisses on the forehead, the intertwined fingers, or the tight, desperate hugs. No, this night was just another night that I, Jane Beaumont, had run away from my feelings. Again.


	10. chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FRENCH MISTAKE CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ((keep in mind I’m PARAPHRASING also it’s supposed to be corny)) ((but I am reading the actual script while writing this so, yes, some lines from the episode will be in this chapter))

*Dean’s POV* 

“Where’s that girl you two have been hauling around? The prophet, right?” Balthazar stood in the doorway, one hand on his hip.   
“She’s not here. What do you want?” Sam snapped.   
“Oh, damn,” he muttered. “Really could’ve used her.” Sam and I hadn’t seen Jane for weeks. She disappeared the night we made up and took everything with her. She left a note, but I didn’t read it. I didn’t want to know why she left because I knew it was my fault.   
“What are you doing her anyway?” Sam asked. Balthazar didn’t answer. He moved around the house quickly, grabbing things and putting them on the desk. He was mumbling to himself.   
“Hey!” he didn’t answer me. “I said hey!” he finally turned to me, rolling his eyes.   
“Yes, you did. Twice! Good for you,” He continued around the house when, finally, he stopped. “You two need to get out of here.”   
“Why?”   
“Raphael,” he said, drawing a symbol on the window in blood. He turned around to face us and narrowed his eyes. “Raphael.” He repeated. He looked past us.   
“Balthazar,” a voice said from behind us. I turned my head and a man stood there, an evil smirk on his face.   
“You two need to go, now!” he threw a key at Sam and, next thing I knew, we were flung out the window and onto something padded. I got up slowly and looked around. A camera was pointed at us with several men behind it, nodding. One of them, an old, bald guy, looked at us and smiled.   
“Jared! Jensen! That was great!” I looked at Sam, whose eyes were wide, and looked back at the men with cameras. Sam leaned over and nudged me.  
“Should we be killing anybody?” I shook my head,   
“I don’t think so.”   
“Running?”   
“Where?” Before he could say anything else, a lady grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the other end of the TV set. I went to go after him, but someone else tugged on my arm. She took me to a seat in front of the mirror, grabbing something that resembled baby wipes and scrubbed my face with it.   
“Crap,” I took the wipe from her, staring at the flesh colored residue on it. “I’m a painted whore.” I got out of the seat quickly, walking to Sam. “They put freaking makeup on us!” I muttered, pulling him outside. “Those bastards.”   
We walked outside, taking in the movie set. There were rows and rows of Impalas and I felt bile rise in my throat. I scowled at the sight, dragging Sam across the road with me.   
“I hate this a lot.” I muttered, glaring at the rows of impalas.   
“I know,” Sam scratched his head. “Maybe we could call Cas or something.” I shrugged, raising up my palms and shutting my eyes.   
“Dear Castiel, who art may be running his ass away from hell, we hope that you have your ears on. Uh, breaker, breaker,” I opened an eye and Sam raised an eyebrow at me and snorted. I scowled, looking away. “Look, Sam,” Cas stood there, eyes narrowed in front of him. “Cas! Oh, thank god. What the hell is all of this? What did Balthazar do to us?” he pouted and narrowed his eyes at us.   
“To keep you out of Virgil’s reach, he’s cast you in an alternate reality. A universe similar to ours in most ways, but dramatically different.”   
“Like…bizzaro earth, right? Except instead of having bizzaro Superman, we get this clown factory!” he nodded slowly, furrowing his brows at us.   
“Yeah, well, do you have the key?” Sam quickly reached into his pocket, handing it to Cas. He turned it in his hands. “This key opens a room filled with all the weapons Balthazar stole from heaven. With those weapons, I have a chance to rally my forces.”   
“Oh,” Sam nodded. “But, uh, what’s up with all this TV crap?” Cas groaned.   
“Aw man,” his voice rose, like, ten octaves higher. I looked over at Sam who stared at Cas. “Did they add new pages?” he pulled out a few folded pieces of paper from his pocket. I grabbed them from him, scanning over the words.   
“These are words from a script!” I looked up at the top of the paper. “His name’s Misha,” I scoffed, crumpling the papers into a ball. “Misha? Jensen? What’s up with the names ‘round here?” Just as I was about to turn and walk away from the whole ordeal, a voice from behind called out,   
“Misha!” I looked at Sam, who wore the same expression, and we turned slowly. Jane stood there with a wide smile and threw her arms around Misha excitedly. She wore a light pink shirt, jean shorts, and black converse. She didn’t look anything like my Jane and it took me a lot longer than it should’ve to register that she wasn’t actually Jane.   
“Hey, kiddo,” he ruffled her hair and Sam and I looked at each other in disbelief. “You ready to go?” She nodded, her smile growing wider and a dimple formed on her left cheek.  
“W-Where are you going?” I asked and my voice shook. How manly. Her head turned and her eyes met mine and I felt my stomach do a flip. You’re such a girl. She smiled widely, running to me and throwing her arms around my neck.   
“Jensen!” She smells like vanilla. “God, I haven’t seen you in so long! We haven’t had a scene together in weeks!” she grinned. Her eyes flashed to Sam and she did the same to him. “Jared, oh my god!”   
“Uh, hey, Janey.” he stammered, then his eyes went wide. She furrowed her brows, then rolled her eyes, giggling.   
“You’re funny, Sammy,” she smiled widely at us, tucking her hair behind her ear. Misha nudged her, whispering something in her ear and she nodded. “Alright, boys, I’ll see you later, yeah?” we nodded at her and she smiled again, taking Misha’s arm, waving at us. Once they were far away enough, Sam turned to me.   
“What the hell do you think that was about?” I shrugged,   
“You should probably do your research thing and find out.”

 

We had found a trailer that had my famous counterpart’s name on it and hastily went in. Jensen Ackles seemed to live a pretty sick life. He had a helicopter and a 300 gallon aquarium in his trailer. He’d also been on a soap opera, which was a major let down. He seemed like a pretty cool guy.   
“Dean!” I looked over at Sam who sat at a table, eyes glued to a computer screen. He looked up at me and smiled. “I found her,” I came over to him quickly, scanning the screen. “Her name’s Vera Krushnic. Apparently Misha’s her older brother.” I furrowed my brow,   
“Wait, so she’s fake Cas’s little sister?” he nodded. “I’m honestly kinda grossed out right now.” Sam rolled his eyes.   
“It says she’s new to the show and that she’s only been on one thing besides this show.” He squinted at the screen. “Oh god.”   
“What?” Sam put his face in his hands.   
“She was in A Walk to Remember,” He murmured, his voice muffled. “Dude, this chick is the complete opposite of Jane.”   
“Well that’s what acting is, isn’t it?” he furrowed his brows. “Like, maybe Jared Padaleski isn’t a bratty five year old like you.” I smirked.   
“It’s Padalecki, and maybe Jensen Ackles isn’t a whiny asshole,” He counted and I rolled my eyes. “We need to get out of here.”   
“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” 

My impala idea was a stupid idea and it didn’t work. All of the cars, like every other thing on that damn set, were props. None of them could take us more than a mile out. Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki didn’t have their own cars. No, why would they? They’re famous. Instead of being reasonable and transporting themselves, they had a freaking chauffer.   
“Where’er you going, Jensen?” Cliff, our chauffer, asked.   
“Uh, I’ll be going with, uh, Je-Jared...yeah, we’re gonna go and work on our acting.” Cliff nodded, but he looked confused. He shook it off,   
“Well, I’m glad you two are talking anyway.”


	11. eleven

Dean’s POV  
Fifteen minutes later, we were stopped in front of some big ass mansion. Five minutes after that, we learned that Sam had married fake Ruby. Forty-three minutes after that, we were sitting in Jared Padalecki’s lounge and maxing his credit cards. We bought parts of dead people.   
Ten hours later, we were picking those dead people parts up, and thirty-two minutes after that, we were sneaking onto the set.   
“I really hope this works, Sammy.” I muttered, opening the box carefully. Of course, nothing ever goes my way, and all the studio lights turned on. The director, some old, fat guy who I hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, trailed in with a group of people clumped behind him. He looked at us in disbelief and clapped his hands.   
“Jensen! Jared! You’re here before everyone else? That’s wonderful!” the group of people behind him all nodded at us and smiled before disbanding and spreading throughout the set.   
“Yeah, uh, look,” I stepped closer to him, keeping my voice down. “We’re gonna need everyone to clear off the set for—safe side—and hour or so.” He nodded at me and did a ‘come here’ motion with his index finger.   
“Now, Jensen, I’m glad that you’ve decided to cooperate, but this set won’t be cleared until we shoot the two and three-quarter pages we’re supposed to shoot today,” he shot me a fake smile. “Got it?” I groaned and mumbled a ‘Whatever’.   
I stepped into the next room, grimacing at Sam. He sighed, placing the box on the floor next to him. The door opened and Misha strode in, a wide smile on his face.   
“Hey guys!” he chimed. I rolled my eyes at him, and so did Sam. “What’s the in the box?” he nudged Sam and he raised an eyebrow at Misha.   
“I bought parts of a dead person.” Misha opened his mouth to say something at Sam, but closed it quickly. He nodded, a confused expression on his face.   
“You’re a real charmer, Jared,” I turned around to face the voice from behind us. Vera stood there with a smirk on her face. She reminded me of Jane more than ever right then. She walked towards us, arms crossed over her chest. “You two hung over or something?”   
Before I could answer, she waved her hand in the air and sauntered out of the room. Misha laughed quietly and I raised an eyebrow at him.   
“She’s in character early,” he chuckled. “I should probably do that too.” He frowned and pulled a few pieces of paper out of his pocket. A few minutes later, Vera walked back in, smiling.   
“How was your morning, Jensen?” her grin was wide. She looks so god damn cute.   
“It was, uh, fine. How about yours?” she giggled, biting down on her bottom lip.   
“Pretty crappy, to be honest,” I raised an eyebrow. “My boyfriend broke up with me last night…over text. Everything after that was just kinda sucky.”   
“He sounds like an asshole,” I snorted and she laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I’m just not sure why anyone would ever want to break up with you.” I clapped my hand over my mouth and she laughed again, her nose wrinkling.   
“Thanks, Jensen,” she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. It sent tingles up my arm. God, I hate myself. “Maybe I should just date you instead.” She joked.   
“Ha, right,” I chuckled. I opened my mouth to say something else, but we were interrupted by someone calling our names, yelling only the word “Places” after.   
I was a terrible actor. I had no idea how to do this! I’m a hunter, not an actor. If I wanted to be an actor—not like I had the choice—I could’ve been one. Sammy was shit too, he kept looking at the camera. Vera was amazing, though. She had a scene with Misha where they were having a heart-to-heart and she cried the whole time, but as soon as they were done, she was fine.   
“Dude, how the hell does she do that?” I mused and Sam snorted.   
“I think it’s called acting.” I rolled my eyes, elbowing him.   
“Shut the hell up, Sam.”   
Vera strolled over with Misha, laughing and wiping under her eyes. She gave me a small wave as they passed us, sporting a wide smile. I watched them leave the set, Misha’s arm around her shoulder. I scowled at them and Sam laughed.   
“Dude, are you jealous?” 

Jane’s POV   
Sweat dripped from my forehead and I hastily wiped it off with the back of my hand and tied my hair into a knot. I ran out of enough money for a motel two nights ago and I found myself living between my stolen car and a McDonald’s. Between gas and food, motels just weren’t in my budget. I knew fully that I’d have to go back soon unless I turned myself in to Crowley, but, I was too scared to do either.   
I disconnected my phone the day after running; I didn’t want anyone finding me. So far, even Cas hadn’t found me. I’d been state hopping a lot—I’d made it all the way from New Jersey down to Florida (which was a terrible idea because it was so god damn hot here) and that’s where I’d been the last few days.   
I got out of my car, running into the McDonald’s bathroom and tugged my shirt off my head, switching it with a tank top from my bag. Pulling off my jeans, I grabbed a pair of sport shorts I’d bought from the drugstore. I hadn’t showered in two nights and I was one hundred and fifty percent sure that I reeked. I used the public restrooms at McDonald’s and tried to clean up as best I could.   
I sighed, slamming my hands on the bathroom counter, and a woman behind me glared. I rolled my eyes at her, turning on the sink and gathering water in my cupped hands, and I splashed it on my face. I grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and rubbed my face down until it burned.   
“You could hurt yourself doing that, you know.” I felt my heart stop and I looked up into the mirror. Castiel looked back at me, eyes narrowed. The woman shrieked when she saw Cas and he lifted two fingers to her forehead and she fell backwards. His eyes were set on me the whole time.   
“What are you doing here?” I swallowed thickly, crumpling the napkin into a ball and tossing it into the trash. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look as menacing as possible. He didn’t buy it and he reached over and grabbed my shoulder, pushing me towards him.   
“You ran away again,” he said simply. “Even when I told you not to do that, you did it anyway.”   
“Yeah well, that’s just what I do.” He sighed and pulled me into a hug, his grip tight. I hugged him back awkwardly, patting his back. When he finally let me go, he sighed again and ran his hand through his hair and it instantly reminded me of Sam. “Do they know I’m here?”   
“No, but we need to go to them. They might be-”  
“Cas, I can’t go.” He stared at me,   
“Why not?” his jaw clenched. “Were you scared?”   
“Of course I was scared, Cas!” I put my head in my hands and groaned loudly. “I was scared of how to react to Dean and I was scared of how I felt about him, so I ran away!” his brow furrowed. “I’m weak, Cas. I’m too weak and I’m not ready and I’m scared,” My voice was barely above a whisper and I could feel it getting ready to crack. “because he means so much to me.”   
“Jane, you know what I told you. It’s not safe for you two to be engaged in a relationship like this!” Tears were falling already and I wiped them away quickly, staring at the floor. Cas sighed and spoke again, his voice soft this time. “I know how you feel about him, Jane, but it’s just not safe.”   
“I know, that’s why I’m not going back. It’s not safe for me to be around them, like you said.”   
“Jane, that’s not what I said.”   
“Then, what did you say?”   
“Jane!” he threw his hands up in frustration. “You’re coming back with me whether you like it or not and this time, you’re staying.” I rose an eyebrow at him.   
“Make me,” He rolled his eyes at me and placed his hand on my shoulder. Damn Castiel and his god damn angel powers. Dead bodies lie on the floor everywhere and I wanted to puke. “Cas, where-”  
“Ah, finally,” I turned and a man stood there with a small smile on his face. “Jane! I’ve been dying to meet you.” I gripped Cas’s sleeve.   
“Who are you?” I asked, not leaving Cas’s side. He extended his hand and I looked at Cas first, who nodded, before taking it.   
“Balthazar,” he smirked. “I heard you’ve been hiding from the Winchester boys, is that right? Funny you should, because-”  
“Jane?” I recognized this voice. This voice made my stomach turn and my heart leap in my chest. I turned around slowly at met eyes with the keeper of the voice. He took a sharp breath when he saw me and ran, pulling me away from Cas and into his arms. “Are you okay?”   
I nodded and he let out a sigh of relief. He held me tighter, his face in the crook of my neck. He kept mumbling something about how glad he was that I was okay and that he never wanted me to leave like that again. When he pulled away, he kept his arm around my waist.   
His eyes searched mine for just a moment, but then he blinked and shook his head. His hand went to cup my cheek and I knew what came next. He smiled softly just before pressing his lips to mine and he smiled through the kiss. I loved Dean Winchester a lot.


	12. twelve

“Will you two just stop touching each other?” Sam snapped, shooting us both a glare. Dean chuckled at him, his nose crinkling. “We have work to do!”   
“So do I,” Dean smirked, squeezing my hand and winking at me. Sam groaned and Dean pressed his lips against mine, the smirk still present on his lips. “What can I say, Sammy? My girl’s a hottie.” He grinned, once he’d pulled away. I felt my cheeks go hot. My girl.   
It had been nearly three months since I’d returned to the Winchester boys and there wasn’t a moment that Dean let me out of his sight. Every time we were on a case, I had to stick by him. On the very rare occasion that he didn’t want me to be there, he’d say,   
“Stay at the motel, Jane. Lock every single door and window and do not even think about running away.” Then, he’d kiss me just for a moment and I’d tell him to be safe, to which he’d smile and reply, “I always am,” before driving away.   
Dean was protective, to say the least, and he craved physical attention. In the mornings, I was greeted with a tight hug and a kiss on the head, during the day, when he wasn’t driving (or killing someone), our hands were intertwined, and during the night, he’d hold me tight and whine when I tried to get out of his grip.   
Today, of course, was no different. Sam sat at the desk in Bobby’s office, doing research on his laptop, and looking irritated with us.   
“Can we please focus on what’s happening? We’re so close to finding Crowley; we need to focus.” Bobby strolled through the door, leaning back.   
“He’s right, y’all need to quit it. Nobody’s safe right now and you two need to be helping.” Dean’s jaw clenched and he stood up, letting go of my hand.   
“Can we talk outside, Bobby?” He grunted, pulling Bobby back out. Sam sighed, looking over at me with a small, apologetic smiled.   
“Sorry, Jane,” he murmured.   
“It’s okay. I totally get it,” I could hear Dean shouting, but couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying. I turned back to Sam. “Have we heard anything from Cas yet?”   
“No, we haven’t heard anything from him in weeks,” he sighed. “Bobby’s starting to get suspicious. He thinks that he and Crowley are in it together.”   
“That’s ridiculous!” I scowled. “It’s Cas!” Sam sighed again,   
“I don’t know what to say, Janey. I don’t want to believe it, but we haven’t heard anything from him in weeks—who knows what he’s been doing, you know?” I nodded. “Dean’s attitude isn’t helping either. He doesn’t want to believe that Cas is siding with Crowley.”   
“You know him better than anyone else, Sam,” I stood up and rubbed my eyes. “How about this: you try and deal with Dean and I’ll see if I can talk to Cas.” He nodded,   
“Good luck,” I opened the window and sat on the ledge, swinging my legs out. “Wait, where are you going?” I turned to face him,   
“I’m going for a walk, Sam, calm down.” I chuckled, jumping off and onto the ground. I walked for a solid ten minutes before finally stopping underneath a tree. I squeezed my eyes shut, “Cas, I don’t know why you’re trying to be so mysterious, but would you pretty please stop acting like a shithead for five seconds and let me talk to you?”   
I felt a small gust of wind on my face and I opened my eyes. Cas stood there, forehead creased and eyes narrowed. I walked towards him slowly, pursing my lips.   
“Jane,” he nodded at me. “What is it?”   
“Are you gonna tell me what’s been going on?” He furrowed his brows,   
“What do you mean?” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest.   
“I’m not stupid, Cas, I know when you’re lying,” he sighed and shook his head. “I’m gonna find out either way, so you better tell me now.”   
“There’s nothing wrong, Jane.” I raised a brow,   
“Castiel, you have five seconds to tell me what you’re doing with Crowley before I go and ask him myself.” His jaw clenched,   
“You know where Crowley is?”   
“Of course I know where he is, I’m a prophet.” He cursed under his breath, and grabbed my arm, the scenery changing. We stood in a small room, white tile decorating the walls. Crowley stood opposite us and let out a small shriek, startled by our sudden appearance.   
“Jane,” he murmured, blinking a few times. “You’ve finally come!” I crossed my arms over my chest, shooting a glare at Cas, who narrowed his eyes at Crowley.   
“Yeah, I thought it was about time I showed up,” I muttered sarcastically. He nodded, “So,” I glanced at Cas. “Is there a reason why you brought me here?”   
“Tell her,” Crowley walked towards me slowly, rubbing his hands together. A wicked grin was spread on his lips. I felt my heart start to pound in my chest. He stood directly in front of me know, still trying to get closer. Cas shoved him off, “That’s enough.”   
“C’mon, Cassie, let me have a bit of fun!” he whined. Cas glared at him, stepping in front of me slightly. Crowley rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he cleared his throat a few times and stepped back. Cas did the same, but he held onto my arm.   
“It’s all about the souls,” he finally said, the wicked grin still wide on his face. “See, Cassie here needs the souls to win the war,” venom drips off every word. “That’s where I slip in,” he chuckled. “And I’m not pulling out.” He winks and I gag at his joke.   
“You’re disgusting.” I scowled. Crowley laughed and Cas stares between the two of us blankly. Crowley shrugged, licking his lips.   
“Nevertheless, now you know the truth.” Cas moved from behind me, walking over to Crowley and standing next to him, with a stony expression.   
“You will not tell Dean,” I raised a brow. “If you do, Jane, I will not hesitate to destroy you.” I was taken aback by his threat.   
“Destroy me?” I stammered. Cas’s eyes faltered, a frown on his lips, but he nodded. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Take me back, Castiel.” He nodded and I bit the inside of my cheek.   
“I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting, Jane Beaumont.” Crowley put two fingers to his forehead and saluted me. Cas grabbed my wrist and we were back in the field. He sighed, looking at me apologetically.   
“Jane, you know I-” I rolled my eyes, stalking off. “Jane, get back here!” I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t mean what I said.”   
“Oh? So, I can tell Dean, then.” His jaw clenched,   
“You can’t tell Dean,” he panicked. “He won’t trust me anymore.” I scoffed,   
“Well it’s not like you’re worth trusting,” his brow furrowed. I sighed, “Cas, you’re lying to everyone. Bobby and Sam already suspect you.” He looked up at me,   
“Dean doesn’t?”   
“Of course not, he wants to believe that you’re not working with Crowley, which you are.”   
“Just,” he sighed. “Please, Jane. Don’t tell him. I need him to trust me.”   
“You better prove it then.”


End file.
